Twenty-Four Hours in the Mountains

New moon is upon us once more and I was itching to get out and test not only my E-M1 Mk III that I bought after the but also Move Shoot Move star tracker that would let me break the 25 s exposure limit that I was experiencing with my present set up.

Mittenwald and the Karwendel || 6-shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/5.6, 1/500 s, ISO 200 

It's been a while since I was this keyed up for a trip of any sort and by Friday evening I must have had packed and unpacked my gear around 4 times already. Saturday morning and my rucksack was feeling suspiciously light. Huh? Oh yes, the all important camera gear bag. Phew.

It had been a couple of weeks since we'd had a leg-stretch and so Sharon and I set off for Garmisch after a comfortable breakfast on Saturday morning to hike up to the Hausberg. It had been raining on and off for the previous few days in Kaltenberg, but in the mountains it had been snowing. In the first light of sun, the tops were shining pristine and I was really excited about the night to come and the images we would hopefully be able to make. After last year's successes in the Allgäu I have absolutely fallen in love with taking photos in the mountains in early summer as the sun goes down. The snow fields radiate in the late evening light both before and after the sun goes down and I was trigger happy after a few weeks out of the field.

Wetterstein || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/640 s, ISO 200 

The hike up the Hausberg afforded us occasional glimpses of the surrounding snow peaks but no real photo opportunities beyond the occasional spring flowers and a friendly squorrel. The saving grace of the tour was Weißbier and Wurst at the kiosk at the Bayernhaus. It's been too long! 

Alpspitz through the Trees || Olympus 57 mm, f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 200

Forest Foliage || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/640 s, ISO 200

Friendly Squorrel || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/160 s, ISO 200

We were at the Mittenwald car park 10 min after Matthias arrived - not bad considering the different journeys we'd had. Sharon then returned home complete with my woolly hat and thermos flask of hot tea (entirely my fault) whilst Matthias and I headed up the Kranzberg via the delightfully situated Korbinian Hütte. Although my shoulders were aching like heck at this point due to all the photographic gear and warm clothing I was carrying in my ancient Deuter rucksack, our spirits were still high at this stage as the clear skies looked set to last.

Korbinian Hütte and Karwendel Spitze  || Olympus 20 mm, f/5.6, 1/800 s, ISO 200

Unfortunately this wasn't the case and we arrived at the summit only to find clouds rolling in from the west. Although this might be fun for the sunset, it was not what we were looking for for the night. We used the time to set up the tripods and snap a few evening shots as well as taking a blue hour panorama of Mittenwald and the Karwendel that would later serve as foreground for the starry landscapes. We waited for the lights in the town to come out for this; a darkened-down shot of a light-less town would not look right and if we left it too late then the difference between the bright lights and the dark mountains would have been too much, plus the exposure would take several minutes at low ISO, time that we'd rather invest in the sky. The combination of sky and ground has to look natural for the photo to work.

Blue-Hour over Mittenwald || 6-shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/8, 2 s, ISO 200

Now it was just a question of waiting for the clouds to go and the stars to come out. Olympus cameras have a built-in intervalometer and can automatically generate time-lapse videos from the shots. Here's my offering from the evening's shenanigans. I'd hoped to catch one of the Milky Way rising over the mountains as well, but failed in that undertaking. 

Video ©️ Mike Page and Rhage Designs

There were plenty of vistas to occupy us while we waited; the Kranzberg boasts a 360° view of the Karwendel and Wetterstein mountains and we must have been able to see at least 50 or more summits of the surrounding mountains. We left the tripods where they were; they were important markers for taking the later shots, and one was recording a time lapse. There was enough light left not to need them with the Olympus cameras anyway. What they lack in noise levels when you jack the ISO up they make up for in spades with out-of-this-world image stabilisation.

Solitary Pine || Olympus 86 mm, f/5.6, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Skeletal Birch || Olympus 80 mm, f/5.6, 1/6 s, ISO 200

Kranzberg Gipfelhaus || Olympus 15 mm, f/5.6, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Austrian Karwendel || Olympus 50 mm, f/5.6, 1/250 s, ISO 200

Wettersteinspitze || Olympus 20 mm, f/5.6, 1/100 s, ISO 200

Sunset Silhouette || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/400 s, ISO 400 

Unfortunately the clouds were teasingly reluctant. Although we could see a clear horizon to the west where the prevailing wind was coming from, the more it blew the more clouds seemed to appear. And Mittenwald is bright at night. Around midnight we began to see more and more stars appearing overhead, but the wind was increasing, the temperature decreasing and there were still bands of cloud over Munich, Mittenwald and Innsbruck that were robbing us of the darkness that you need for really good pictures of the Milky Way. I'd had high hopes of some cool blue-hour photos of the first stars over the Karwendel mountain range. They didn't manifest either.

Best of a Poor Sky || 2x6-Shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/8/2.8, 1/640/25 s, ISO 200/3200

In the end I gave up around 12:30, giving it up as a bad job and retreating to the log cabin on top of the Kranzberg to shiver the night away on a hard wooden bench. Matthias stuck it out in the wind-shadow of the cabin and actually got a half-way decent shot of the arch of the Milky Way over the mountains during a 10 minute interval in the clouds, the composition that I'd been after. But even then, the galactic core wasn't popping the way it can sometimes and so I didn't berate myself for not having stuck it out. I was missing a vital bit of kit for getting a solid panorama anyway and I just wasn't feeling it after my hike during the day as well.

My sleep was interrupted around 4:00 am by a couple of revellers from the valley, who for some bizarre reason decided that the top of the Kranzberg was the ideal place to smoke some whacky baccy and sing badly to German rap blaring out of a ghetto blaster. They blinded Matthias' acquired night vision with a blast from their torch and generally annoyed us for 15-30 min before deciding that shorts and a hoody were insufficient protection from the elements and buggered off whence they had come. Good riddance.

We were up at 5:00 to catch a glimpse of first light. Of course all the interesting clouds had gone by this stage and all we were left with was that typical narrow but intense band of colour low on the horizon as the sun made its welcome face known.

Mountain Dawn || 3-Shot HDR Olympus 8 mm, f/5.6, 1/10 s, ISO 200

Pretty in Pink || Olympus 18 mm, f/5.6, 1/15 s, ISO 200

Matthias had one surprise composition left before we headed down to the car and home, an alpine meadow complete with wooden hay barn in front of the Wettersteinspitze. Another tricky exposure that I've had to exposure blend to make the barn visible against the bright snowy mountain.

Alm Landscape Underneath the Wetterstein || Exposure Blend Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/50 s, ISO 200

90 minutes later, after having been standing in the same clothes for 24 h we were back home in blazing sunshine. 

So was it worth it given the disappointing astro' conditions? Every trip like this I learn something. I don't always come away with the shots that I wanted. Sometimes (often) I come away with bonus images that I hadn't expected or even contemplated. So yes, I'm a better - or at least more experienced - photographer than I was this time last week and next time I'll be in a better position to get that shot.

Move Shoot Move and Olympus E-M1 Mk III

Milky Way season is upon us and so last weekend I headed out to the hills with fellow photographer Matthias Tannert to try to grab some astro shots in the mountains above Mittenwald, Bavaria. I had some new equipment that I was keen to put through its paces and an ambitious photograph that I was keen to pull off: a panorama of the whole visible Milky Way in the night sky.

The best I could make of it. My first Milky Way panorama

The trip was a mixed success, I got some cracking shots of the evening and early morning on the Kranzberg, but unfortunately the astro session was not as successful. There was a lot more cloud around as well as a lot more wind than was forecast and it was bitingly cold, leading me to give up my attempts at photography not long after midnight and seek shelter in the summit refuge.

I'll make the presentable shots the subject of another post, this one is going to be all about the technology, so if you're interested in the Move Shoot Move star tracker or astrophotography using the Olympus E-M1 Mk III, stick around. If not, I suggest you check back later in the week to see the other shots.

Setting up the MSM - Preparation

I spent a lot of time preparing for the trip last week, trying to get as much information as I could about setting up the MSM and establishing the best settings for the camera. Fortunately a lot of this information can be found in the same place as the American photographer Alex McGregor has an excellent YouTube channel (and website) called Chasing Luminance. 

One of the videos deals with calibrating the laser to make sure it's pointing straight. It's just as well I did this as my first attempts over a distance of about 2.5 m gave me a spread of around 10 cm top to bottom and left to right as I span the laser in its dedicated holder. Part of the problem is that there seems to be quite a bit of play room at the back of the laser and each time I tightened the locking screw the sighting seemed to shift a little. I've tried to partially overcome this by lining the back end of the laser holder with some thin card and there's now significantly less wiggle-room.

I ended up shrinking my target of error from about 10 cm to around 2.5 cm (4" to 1" if you haven't joined the 21st century yet 😉). There was a recent post in the MSM Facebook group from Andrew Larkin detailing how important getting the accuracy was in terms of length of exposure, varying from about a minute if you're 10° out up to 4 minutes at 2.5° or even 20 minutes at 0.5°, so setting up the laser is important. My university-aged kids assure me that a 10 cm spread over 2.5 m is approximately 2.5° - so we're already in a reasonably good place. A 2.5 cm spread is already 0.6°. Actually both of those should be half that since 10 cm and 2.5 cm were the diameter of the error field rather than the radius. So even better.

Setting up the MSM - In the Field

I have a relatively sturdy Tiltall carbon fibre tripod that I set up relatively low on the mountainside so that I could operate the camera whilst seated on the ground. I paid attention to making sure that the top of the tripod was horizontal before attaching my geared head. The MSM was attached to this and the camera to the MSM via the original Tiltall ball-head. 

I would really recommend doing a dry run at home to make sure all the knobs and levers are in the right positions before you head out to the field. Once you've established your spot, set up early if you can. If you take foreground images in the blue hour like we did, you're not going to be able to get too many compositions from just the one tripod spot, so be warned.

Setting up the MSM with my Olympus

If you're going to shoot panoramas, slipping a V- or Z-plate between the MSM and the top ball-head will add a ton of flexibility, in fact mine's in the post. This will mean that I can put the assembly on the ball-head and elevate the geared-head to the top layer for better panorama assembly. If I'd assembled it with the geared head on top, the gears would not be in a position to allow horizontal and vertical adjustment.

Sighting on Polaris was gratifyingly easy. I'd already set the elevation to about 47.5° (approx. 1° per ° of latitude) and pointed it north, I wanted to have that laser on for the shortest possible time. Then it was a case of twiddling the geared head so that the tracker was pointing absolutely dead on. The laser is really very visible to the naked eye.

Waiting for night to fall and the clouds to bugger off

Once it got dark and the worst of the cloud had gone I managed to fire off a couple of test shots simply to test trailing. My standard astro exposure with the Olympus using my Panasonic Leica f/2.8 8-18 mm is 25 s, f/2.8 ISO 6400, 8 mm (that's 16 mm to you full-frame types). I tried my first test-shot for 60 s using ISO 3200. 

8 mm (m43), 60 s,  ISO 3200 

Then I dropped to ISO 1600 and went up to 120 s.

8 mm (m43), 120 s,  ISO 1600

And lastly ISO 800 and 240 s.

8 mm (m43), 240 s,  ISO 800

It was quite windy, so there may have been a little blur due to tripod, but I find these images to have a perfectly acceptable level of star trailing. I have not stacked the images or performed any noise reduction on these images, they are single images processed in ON1 Photo Raw 2021 where I have simply tweaked the contrast up 13 points after applying the lens profile. The crops are of the area around Antares (?) top left - approximately 1/3 of the full screen in each dimension.

Olympus E-M1 Mk III

I want to start by pointing out that the images presented here are for technical purposes only. I have not done any significant editing and they're not images I'd want to be judged by. I started my astrophotography path in 2020 using my E-M1 Mk II. This time I was eager to take the Mk III for a test drive with all its astrophotography bells and whistles.

Starry Sky AF

First up is the star focus function on the Mk III. This is a game-changer for me as my manual focus can be a bit hit and miss, even with focus magnification at max. My eyesight is no longer 20/20 and getting those fuzzy little balls of fire as tight as possible with atmospheric movement and camera movement due to fiddling with the focus ring was always a trial of patience. And don't even talk to me about accidentally hitting the ring in the dark when you move the camera. All those frustrations are a thing of the past. Select accuracy (menu A4) and then Starry Sky AF under the focus options and hit the AEL/AEF button on the back of the camera. Works!

HHHR

The E-M1 Mk III has a magic high-res mode that can generate a 50 (or even 80) MP image using a 20 MP sensor. You can choose to do this hand held (HHHR) or in tripod mode. The former samples 16 images which it interpolates in camera, the latter 8 images. According to McGregor, it should be possible to use the HHHR mode to shoot stars and the THR mode to shoot foregrounds (video 1 and 2). There are two theoretical advantages to shooting in high res mode, you get a bigger image (duh!) and the camera performs about 2 stops of ISO-related noise reduction when it interpolates the images. But it does require a tracker.

There are some limits, maximum photo length is 60 s (giving a 16 minute exposure + processing time) and the maximum ISO in THR is 1600.

Tracked HHR for the Stars

This is my attempt at track in HHHR. Something has gone wrong here. Although Antares only appears once, the smaller stars all appear as dotted tracks. Alex, if you happen to read this, what did I do wrong here? You can still see the beginning of the Milky Way bottom left over the mountains, but this isn't an image that I can use. Maybe there's too much ground in the picture for the Olympus to process the stars properly, but the bigger stars have no trails.

MSM-Tracked, HHHR image 8 mm (m43) 60 s, f/2.8, ISO 3200, 50 MP 

Stationary HHHR for the foreground

I turned the tracker off and switched into THR, reduced the ISO and tried a couple of foreground shots. This works really well, but has left me with some unsightly pixel artefacts. Cloning them out will be straightforward, but they're there. The image quality is perfectly acceptable for the foreground image though. I know it doesn't look too hot in the blown-up parts of the image, but a lot of that can be rescued, if by nothing else than reducing the resolution of the image to a useable level.

Untracked, THR image 8 mm (m43) 60 s, f/2.8, ISO 400, 50 MP 

Untracked, THR image 8 mm (m43) 20 s, f/2.8, ISO 400, 50 MP

Lessons Learned

• Don't go on a 5 h hike with the missus on a day you plan to do astrophotography - it saps necessary energy
• The MSM is a game changer for Milky Way photography. Although I didn't show any shots without it here, anything that lets me reduce ISO and achieve the low noise levels I have here is a great advantage.
• I need a wedge for the MSM
• Starry Sky AF is a huge win for astro with the Olympus
• High res mode needs further investigation in both hand-held and tripod modes

Thanks for dropping by.

Getting the Most out of Spring Flowers

"Spring is sprung, the grass is ris, I wonder where the birdies is!" 

In other words, spring is here and the floral season is upon us. This blog post is about getting the most out of spring flowers looking at equipment, subject and composition. Close-up or macro photography is a fascinating sub-genre of nature photography that can give a lot of bang for the buck - you don't have to invest tons of money in expensive equipment to get some cracking results.

Pear Blossom in my Garden || Olympus 60 mm, f/8, 1/400 s, ISO 200

I'm not going to go into complicated things like focus stacking or special lighting here, this post is going to be directed at beginners and enthusiasts - how to get stunning close-ups of flowers in the spring. For those interested in the technical background, the official definition of a macro photograph is one where the subject takes up the same amount of space on the camera sensor as in real life; this is a 1:1 representation of the subject. Anything lower than this is simply a close-up, from around the 5:1 level we're into microscopic photography.

The Equipment

Every lens has a minimal focus distance - the closest distance at which you can focus on an object. On a normal lens this will be somewhere between 20-50 cm, which is too far to get great shots of small subjects. But there are a couple of relatively inexpensive ways of reducing this, allowing you to get closer to your subject and allowing you to fill your frame with the beauty that nature provides. No-one is going to be interested in a shot of flower blossoms that fill 2% of your photo. The aim here is to get up close and personal with nature.

Close-up Filter (l) and Extension Tubes

The first tool I bought for close-up photography was a +3 diopter close-up filter for my standard M. Zuiko 12-100 mm lens that I use on my Olympus camera. This effectively functions as a magnifying glass screwed onto the front of your lens and allowing you to reduce the minimal focal distance. Plus 3 diopter allows you to get significantly closer, but be prepared to dig a little into your pocket for this. I just looked up how much this filter costs on the Big River website and was shocked to see that you'll need to spend around € 100 for one of these attachments at the moment. I'm sure I didn't spend that much when I bought mine, but for a number of years, this was my go-to tool, always in my camera bag in the mountains.

Fill that Frame! Pansy close-up

The next tool I bought was a set of extension tubes. These are essentially hollow tubes that are inserted between the lens and the camera. They don't contain any glass and so won't affect the quality of your photo in any way. Often they will provide connectors that allow your camera to continue to communicate with the lens for purposes of setting the aperture and focus. The tubes also allow you to get much closer to your subject as above. A set of tubes will set you back about € 30 (+/-). The length of the tubes shouldn't be longer than the focal length of your lens, otherwise you won't be able to focus.

If you're really serious about close-up photography you might want to consider investing in a dedicated macro lens. I recently bought the Olympus f/2.8 60 mm macro lens. It's so small that I can take it with me everywhere. 

Normally, a tripod isn't necessary and a lot of macro photographers actually prefer not to use them. For standard shots I don't bother with one, only if I'm focus stacking or dealing with really small subjects.

Ladybird on Nettle Flower || Olympus 60 mm, f/8, 1/50 s, ISO 400 

All of the above can also be combined and I've already used the extension tubes to great effect with my macro lens allowing me to get some really close up shots of garden insects such as the ladybird above.

The Subject

Not every flower works well close-up. Some look better as a group from a distance, get too close and they can be boring. Complex flowers like dandelions and daisies can look fantastic close up. Others can look just bleurgh... Trial and error is the best approach here. Blossom is nearly always good close up, as are catkins and pussy willow. Experiment and you'll find what works best for you.

Dandelion Detail || Olympus 60 mm, f/8, 1/100 s, ISO 400

One of the beauties of macro photography is that you don't need to go far to find your subject. If you have a garden or even just a balcony, you more than have plenty of subjects to hand. Otherwise, head out to a local park, or even better a botanical garden.

One of the things to bear in mind with close-up photography is that the depth of field gets shallower the closer you are to a subject. This can be both a boon and a bane. It can really isolate the subject matter using sharp focus on your subject whilst throwing the background (and foreground) pleasingly out of focus, but if the depth of focus is too tight you'll struggle to get all of you subject in focus.

Down among the Daisies || Olympus 60 mm, f/5.6, 1/1250 s, ISO 200 

The depth of field (or depth of focus) describes the distance before and after the focal point that is acceptably in focus to the native eye. At it's shallowest, the subject is is in focus and the foreground and background are blurred. At it's broadest, focus will extend for most of the scene. In the shot of the daisies above, the depth of focus is restricted to the plane encompassing the yellow stamen of the central daisy flower. Everything in front of that and everything behind is out of focus.

Just like the exposure triangle (ISO/Shutter Speed/Aperture), there's a depth of field triangle:

Aperture - Focal Distance - Focal Length

The wider the aperture, the shorter the distance from the lens and the longer the lens, the shallower the depth of field:

	Shallower DoF	Wider DoF
Aperture	Wider (lower number)	Narrower (higher number)
Focal Distance	Closer	Further away
Focal Length	Longer	Shorter

The Composition

One of the great things about macro photography is it gives you to present your viewers with details that they perhaps hadn't consciously seen before giving rise to that cherished 'oh wow!' reaction. There are a couple of simple tricks to getting a cool close-up photo of flowers:

One of my favourites is to get low down to the flower, on your stomach in the grass if needs be (taking care not to squash other flowers and don't forget to check for ticks afterwards). This gives a much more interesting angle and view than looking straight down on the flowers, catching your shoes in frame. For greatest effect you need to be just above or below 90° - above allows a glimpse into the flower, below can be really effective against the light.

Down at Daisy Level || Olympus 60 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Another thing that's cool to do is to put the flowers in their context. The shot here of the crocuses isn't a close-up, but it puts them nicely in their context in the Allgäu mountains. The best way of doing this is with a wide angle lens, making sure to get close to your subject matter so it takes up a significant part of the frame whilst allowing the background to play a supporting role.

Mountain Crocuses in Context || Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/320 s, ISO 200

With these primulas I included a bit of the stream to anchor them in their environment. Opening the aperture helped me to isolate the flowers and give the viewer a hint where they're supposed to look, important here given the lack of colour contrast between the flowers and the background.

Primulas at the Stream || Olympus 100 mm, f/4, 1/50 s, ISO 200

Where the flowers aren't necessarily very strong individually, back up a little and take them as a group - there's strength in numbers.

Crocus Field || Olympus 80 mm, f/8, 1/320 s, ISO 400

When shooting tree blossom, diagonal branches can support the composition. Watch out for distracting elements in the background and try to get your focus on the closest part of the blossom for the biggest impact.

Spring Blossom || Olympus 60 mm, f/8, 1/400 s, ISO 200

So, what's stopping you? Get out there, take some stunning spring photos and share them online!

Addendum: Light

I've just been out working in the garden and realised that I'd forgotten one of the most important aspects of photography: Light. Most of the time our instinct is (hopefully) to shoot with the light behind us or to the side. If we shoot into the light, often our subject will be a dark splodge and the background a washed-out blur. It hurts when I see people taking photos like this because I know they're going to turn out badly. Always know where the light's coming from and take it into account when you're taking photos.

The wonderful thing about flowers though is that they're often translucent - they let a certain amount of light through - as illustrated by this lovely photo by my friend Emma Marra. It also shows nicely the principle of shooting from slightly below the flowers and up towards the light. All the better if you can place something dark behind the flowers as here to let them really shine.

Emma's Tulips. Down low and against the light.

In My Mother's Garden

As I start writing this, I'm at my parent's house - now actually my father's house. My mother passed away two weeks ago today and her funeral was yesterday. Quarantine rules mean that apart from attending the funeral we're not allowed to leave the property and so as well as bringing a couple of books to read, I brought my camera with me to capture some of the beauty of the garden that she and dad have created in the 20 years that they've lived in their small village in rural Somerset.

Ann Page, 31.05.1941-16.03.2021 🕆

Even though dad is the son of a horticulturalist, it was mum who was the driving force in the garden, suggesting the design and choosing the plants. Her pride and joy was the large rockery bisecting the garden and separating the upper and lower lawns.

Mum tending her beloved rockery back in happier times in 2017

The flowers and shrubs were definitely her domain and it's a real treat in spring, especially the rockery with its primulas, grape hyacinths and pasque flowers. It also forms a great home for ladybirds and spiders at this time of year. Who knew that spiders could be so cute large? (my wife certainly doesn't).

Grape hyacinths, looking towards the house

Mum had turned her hand to a number of things over the years, but was predominantly a home-builder, at least while my sister Hilary and I were growing up. She was an excellent cook and seamstress, a great hostess and had a wicked sense of humour, something that she maintained until quite near the end. It was always easy to get a twinkle out of her eye with a clever aside, even when she was struggling with words herself as she did on and off for the last few years. Especially if it was a subtle sotto voce dig at dad (who doesn't have the best hearing, bless him). Always guaranteed to elicit a sly grin!

One of Mum's greatest strengths was putting other people first, whether that meant being a stay-at-home mum for the most part or driving me all over the southern half of the UK when I was looking for university places. She loved singing, was a reluctant leader when they asked her to head up the WI or Mother's Union and loved it when she could get fresh strawberries and cream on her birthday at the end of May. In the days before the universal availability of such exotic fruits throughout the year this was always a bit touch and go. She was a great role model.

Pasque Flower

Pasque Flowers Contra Jour

As her health declined over the last years I had the impression that she was always at her best when we were visiting or when she came to us, slumping somewhat afterwards. Dad did a great job looking after her whilst that was still possible for someone in his 70s to do, taking over essentially all the domestic duties in the house over time. When we were back at Christmas 2019 the rest of us had settled in to the living room after dinner and mum was missing. Partly out of concern for what she might be up to and partly wanting to just chat with her for a bit I went looking for her and found her brightly washing up in the kitchen. It was the first time she'd done this for at least two years and we were both excited about how well she was doing and she expressed a wish to be able to come out and visit us at Easter. It was the last time that she was this well. By Easter 2020 travel restrictions were in place and her health had deteriorated again. Those precious minutes we had together in the kitchen are a great memory to hold on to.

One of the neighbours fashioned this beautiful sheath for mum's coffin

Communicating with mum has been very difficult over the last year. We were able to visit her through the window of her care home back in September just after she came out of Yeovil hospital after a protracted stay. That was the last time we saw her. Since then visiting rules at the care home have meant that only one designated visitor was allowed. Even if we had flown home and gone through the 10-day enforced quarantine, we wouldn't have been able to visit her.

Apple blossom in the Spring

Ladybird

Perrywinkle

Dandelion Flower

Telephoning was extremely difficult - she couldn't work out what to do with the smart phones offered her by the home to communicate and video calls only made her upset. In the end I resorted to old fashioned communication and wrote her a letter a week, enclosing a photo or two that I'd taken recently. Only a single page each time, letting her know what the family was up to or reassuring her when she moved home in February that we still knew where she was and she didn't need to fret - something in black and white that the carers could re-read to her when she got upset or forgot. Of all the photos I sent the most crinkled one - the one she'd apparently held in her hand the most - was a summit shot of Sharon and me in the Bavarian Alps. 

Letters to Mum

Spending the week with dad was the right thing to do despite all the hurdles involved in international travel at the moment. Although I think we'd all done our 'letting go' in the months if not years before as mum's ability to interact with her surroundings had slowly declined, it was important to say goodbye and be together again as family.

We'll miss you mum, and we certainly won't forget you!

Goodbye Mum, you won't be(e) forgotten!

Wood pigeon, ubiquitous to our garden

Wysteria Bud

Rockery Flowers

Garden Spider

Last Year's Poppy

Daffodils